Chapter 2
War is never just about the oncoming battle and songs of wrath, glory and victory. You need troops, weapons, cavalry, food supplies, medical supplies, ways to boost morale and this is only for the army. You need men and women with power as well as the inclination to support you. You need scouts and spies for the enemy. You need resources to fund your army and at the same time support their families and reign over the people so those with normal lives may continue to live on as if nothing has happened.
No, was has no glory except when it is so old that myths and legends surround it. When it is fresh, it is full of tales told by mothers' tears, widows' cries and a bloody terrain.
War is a grim and the burden upon the sovereign of the land is great indeed.
As High King of the Teleri, I know the burden that has befallen me. And I accept it fully with no qualms. I knew such a day would come eventually when I was reborn. Mistakes I will make, I am sure, but I will not make the ones I made that led to the First Kinslaying.
I do not think all are as ready as I am and perhaps some are too eager for this position. I have heard some disturbing rumours among the Silvan and the Sindarin Elves that has put me to worry. Perhaps there are just rumours. If not, then I will address it. At the moment, I will keep my silence.
The ships have set sail. Aman is no more. When I looked upon Alqualondë for the last time, I saw orcs milling about the harbour. We were driven from our own homes; homes that we spent Ages to build and decorate for our leisure. Aman, it seems, was only a temporary haven.
Of all things, I did not expect the dead to return, especially of Men, Dwarves and Halflings. I never saw a Man before and I must say I am now very curious of Arda, and what it may hold. My people are shaken but are hopeful as am I. we are the Teleri; our hearts never settle and that is why change is easy to come by.
Amrothos peered down in the endless depths of the Sea. The dark waters were constantly churning against the wind for some time but there were no signs of a storm. The skies were clear and so the water's movement was unnatural. The Elves were worried.
"The Sea is my mistress," Erchirion said in some humour beside him. "The air and freedom she gives."
"Adrian used to say that," Amrothos said to his brother with a grin. He looked up. High above them, the Great Eagles of Manwë circled the ships, their wings creating new currents of air. "Yes, before he settled eventually with a widow and her two children."
"Does any of this feel strange to you?" Erchirion said.
"The fact that we are back in these bodies? Or the fact that we are young after growing old and dying? Or the fact that we met the Valar and saw Aman? Or the fact that we are now going back to Arda to take part in a battle for the end of the world?"
Erchirion chuckled.
"All of it," he said.
"It's insane." Amrothos told him. "Maybe all of this is happening in my head."
"Tell your head to stop then."
"It can't," Amrothos said gravely. "I was dropped on my head when I was a child. My imagination always runs wild since then."
Suddenly a small figure barely waist high appeared between them with a short curly brown hair and dressed in the same white clothes as they were.
"Isn't it wonderful?" The Hobbit exclaimed, looking up. "What fun! All of us are together and we get to meet Legolas again!" Erchirion looked down at the Hobbit before bursting into a laugh he quickly turned into a cough.
"I don't think this was meant to be considered fun, Master Pippin." Amrothos said, while Erchirion stifled his chuckles. "We are at the end of the world, after all. Poor Elves just lost their homes."
"I would not precisely call Aman home, Master Amrothos," Elrond said, appearing beside the Amrothian. "I feel as if it was only a place to ease our hearts and give us respite."
"Not that it had any effect," Elrohir remarked.
"What was it like? Aman?" Erchirion asked in curiosity.
"Like a beautiful lie frozen in time." Elrohir said bitterly. They did not ask further.
On a ship leading the hundreds of ships behind them, Manwë looked up at the starlit sky with growing worry.
"Still no news of Varda?" Oromë asked in a soft murmur.
"None," Manwë said. "I do not know where she is. Not after Valmar was sacked."
"She is alive."
"Yes, I know. She is alive, but her heart is full of sorrow."
A star shot up into the sky, joining its brethren.
"She is out there, somewhere," Oromë said, looking up as another star appeared in the sky.
"Hope," Manwë said. "That is what she gave to the Peoples of Arda. Hope. And she gave the Elves more stars in the sky, for she knew the Elves loved her creations."
"Olwë's worried."
"I know."
"So is Ulmo."
"I know."
"These water-sprites are not friendly."
Manwë did not bother to say that he knew.
"They will try to sink the ships, especially the ones that bear the Race of Men."
"Yes." Manwë said. "How do you fight the Sea when it is on ships that you sail?"
Oromë was silent.
"I do not know."
"I do not know either." Manwë sighed. "I am tired, Oromë. I am tired like never before. With each step that my brother takes, with each step that his power strengthens, mine weakens."
"And with yours, we weaken as well." Oromë said. Fatigue was written clear along the lines of his face. "I want to rest, Manwë."
"And we cannot." Manwë said. "They need our help." The King of the Valar turned around to look at the fleet of the ships behind him. "The Free Peoples of Arda need us."
"We will be nothing to them if we do not catch our strengths." Oromë rested his hand on Manwë's shoulder. "We need sleep. We need to heal."
Whatever Manwë meant to say was forgotten. Suddenly the Eagles above them gave a loud shriek of warning. Manwë looked up sharply and then ran and looked over the edge. The Sea looked darker, and the waters were more turbulent.
Suddenly a water-sprite jumped out of the water, shrieking, her arms reaching for Manwë. The Vala stepped back and Oromë pulled out his sword and embedded it into the water-sprite's chest. Manwë pulled out his own sword.
"Let's just worry about these water-sprites first." Manwë said dryly.
"Right." Oromë said with the same dryness.
"They are attacking the fleet!"
Manwë turned around just in time to see one of the ships, covered in the water-sprites, slowly sink into the Sea. He took a step towards it but Oromë stopped him.
"You can't save everyone, Manwë."
"They weren't brought from the dead to die again."
"Manwë," Oromë said. "Let it go."
The ship sank and Manwë let it go.
On the Gondorian ship, they had their own problems.
"I wish Andúril was in my hand." Aragorn said, grabbing the water-sprite off Faramir and throwing her over the edge.
"I think all of us are wishing this." Faramir said, grabbing his king's wrist and pulling him to the middle of the ship.
"LADY ARWEN!" Amrothos shouted. The warning came just in time. A water-sprite leaped out, her fingers spread claw-like and would have caught onto Arwen's white gown had Faramir not pushed her to the side. The water-sprite grabbed onto Faramir instead. The water-sprite gave a screech and her teeth were bared.
"I thought water-sprites were soldiers of Ossë!" Faramir said, covering the queen with his own body. "He should be able to control them!"
"Like Ossë's split nature, his soldiers have the same nature as he does." Arwen said. "My brothers!'
Faramir turned to see Elrohir on the floor, wrestling a water-sprite in his grasp. Her teeth were bared and aiming for his neck.
Elladan shot the water-sprite. The sprite shrieked and slumped over Elrohir. Elrohir crawled out from under her.
"I think they like you Elrohir!" Elladan said.
"I already have a wife, thank you!" Elrohir retorted. The two brothers crawled back out of reach. "Why don't you go after them? After all, I remember you having a liking for all stories with water-sprites."
"Oh, I outgrew them."
"Any plans on how to destroy them?" Aragorn asked.
"Fire." Elrohir only said.
"And how will you-" Faramir's voice died down in his throat.
Two ships away, they could see Finrod and other Elves throwing glass bottles into the Sea. Then they threw torches. The surface of the Sea erupted in fire.
"What is that?" Imrahil asked.
"Flammable oil that cannot be quenched by fire," Elrond said. "Finrod was working on it."
The water-sprites moved back, snarling and shrieking. The Eagles swept down and flew low enough for the Elves to jump on their backs, large satchels in the hands.
"You do know these ships can catch flames as well." Amrothos said.
"Ulmo will take care that none of the fires reach us."
They watched as the water-sprites drew back until they eventually disappeared.
"How many ships did we lose?"
"Three," Elrond said.
Slowly the fires died away.
"They have gone underwater to lick their wounds." Amrothos gloated.
"Don't gloat." Imrahil warned him. "They might be back."
"I do not think so." Elrond said.
"Look!" Sam said suddenly. Everyone looked in the direction where Sam's finger pointed. A ship was sailing parallel to theirs and Éomer stood facing them.
"Give me back my wife!" Éomer yelled over the distance. Aragorn and the rest chuckled.
"Or what?" Aragorn challenged.
"Or I will come and personally get her after beating you to pulp!"
"You threaten to take my sister!" Erchirion said.
"She is my wife! And I will have my wife by all means as possible!"
"Of course," Amrothos retorted. "It's not like we just fought of hoards of lusty-"
"Bloodthirsty, Amrothos," Erchirion corrected.
"Oh, that's right, bloodthirsty water-sprites who wanted to feast on our bodies." Amrothos said.
"That's precisely why I want my wife back!" Éomer said.
"You will have her back after we dock!"
"You had better do that, or we will be at war!" Éomer called. Everyone laughed.
"Try not to fight," Elrond said mildly. "I need you all alive for Dagor Dagorath."
"The Rohirrim are difficult to please without a fight, Master Elrond." Frodo said quietly. Elrond chuckled.
"So it would seem."
"Think of it, Mister Frodo," Sam said, placing his hands around Frodo and Merry's shoulders. Pippin threw his own arm around Merry's shoulders. "The Fellowship will be reunited again when we reach Arda and Mister Boromir and Legolas with us."
Frodo smiled, his face lighting up at the prospect.
"Now that will be a sight to see, Sam."
On another ship, Manwë, Oromë and Tulkas stood side by side, facing the land that steadily grew larger as they drew near. The King of the Valar glanced at Oromë.
"You don't look too happy." Manwë observed.
"I am not." Oromë said.
"I wonder why."
There was a hint of amusement in the otherwise tired tone of Manwë's voice.
"There is no reason." Oromë said. Tulkas chuckled.
"How angry do you think Thranduil is with you?"
Oromë grimaced.
"I would think he might be a little bit upset."
Tulkas snorted.
"That, my friend, is an obvious understatement."
oOo
Galadhrim's Settlement,
Japan,
Dorián glowered up at the ceiling. There was only one opening, square in shape and fortified by bars that provided light into his prison cell.
"My king won't tolerate this!" He shouted. "Haldir! Tell your Lord and Lady that I am not telling them anything and they should let me go!"
No one answered.
"You won't get anything from my laptop!" Dorián called out. "I wiped it."
"I noticed." Galadriel appeared, breaking the steady stream of light.
"You know I know why King Thranduil considered you similar to the spawn of Morgoth."
Galadriel's face broke into a sorrowful smile.
"You have become bitter, Dorián." Dorián said nothing. "Tell me what you have found."
"Forget it."
"Dorián, do you truly believe Thranduil is capable?"
"More capable than you. For all your power, Lady of Light, you are still very much narrow-minded." Dorián said. Galadriel failed to become angry.
"I am not here to argue with you. Come, you will be set free."
"Why?"
"I am sending you back to Thranduil in good faith."
"Good faith," Dorián snorted. "You didn't get what you wanted. Why would you let me go?"
"Because of me," Mithrandir said, appearing beside Galadriel. "Let him up, please. I would like to deliver him to Thranduil intact."
The walls of his prison cell changed from dark walls to transparent ones before disappearing. He was in a larger room, with a door open in a corner. Galadriel and Mithrandir both came down from the staircase.
"Wonderful," Dorián muttered. "You made a prison to remind me of Dol Guldur."
Galadriel looked apologetic but he waved her away. Haldir was nowhere to be seen.
"Did Haldir know I was here?"
Galadriel's long silence told him no, he did not.
They were passing through the guards control room. Dorián stumbled. As he did, he grabbed the table and placed the bug underneath its table top.
"I thought you looked after him well."
"I did." Galadriel looked worried.
"I am fine."
They were given a private jet.
"You are angry with me." Galadriel said.
"Not so much now," Dorián said with a smile.
"Farewell, Dorián," Galadriel said.
"Farewell." Dorián said and left to enter the jet without another word.
"He has revenge planned." Galadriel said.
"How do you know?"
"He isn't Thranduil's spy for nothing."
Mithrandir said his own farewells to Galadriel and entered the private jet. Dorián sulked, sitting in a window seat. When the jet took off, Dorián said abruptly. "Do you have a laptop?"
Mithrandir gestured at it wordlessly.
Dorián took it and tugged on the buckle of his belt. A piece pulled apart.
"Sneaky," Gandalf said dryly. It revealed as a flash drive. Then he suddenly realized Dorián was up to something. "You stumbled- you put something there, didn't you?"
"My wife taught me a few things," Dorián said grimly. "Do not worry; I did not damage their defences. In fact I upgraded them- and then I placed a hole in their system so that we know what they are up to."
"I do not think that is wise," Gandalf said mildly. Dorián looked up and Gandalf fell silent at the look of anger and betrayal Dorián's face held.
"Don't talk to me about what is wise." The Elf said through gritted teeth. "I spent days in that rat-hole when they knew how much I hated anything that reminded me about the dungeons of Dol Guldur. I am doing this. Who are they?"
He said, glancing at a young man and woman.
"Morwen and Turin."
"Ah."
"Do you plan to harm them?" Mithrandir asked.
"No, but I think it's time King Thranduil held a bargaining chip in his hand."
oOo
Halls of Mandos,
He walked alone in the silent halls. There was no one else beside him. In effect, there was no one living in the halls. His hand brushed against the pillars. It was too cold.
"You won't win." He said.
"You are a fool to think that I will not win." Morgoth said.
"I know you will not." He said firmly, turning around. Morgoth towered over him by several feet. "My sons are there to defeat you. The alliances between all the peoples will be re-forged."
Morgoth's face was twisted in mocking smirk.
"Why, Morgoth?" Fëanor asked softly. "Why do this? I regret everything I did. Why can't you?"
Morgoth did not answer him and stepped out of the Halls of Mandos.
"You will remain trapped here, Fëanor. Watch as I remove each of your sons from their bodies!"
Fëanor's spirit stood alone in the crumbling ruins of the Halls of Mandos, worry flickering through his fëa.
oOo
Colder regions of Russia,
Miranda had no idea where she was.
They were underground, that was for sure. The smell was dank. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled in small puddles. Across the table on which her hands rested was Demetri. She could feel his henchman lightly touch the gun on the back of her head.
"Ever played Russian roulette?" Bard's descendant asked. Miranda could feel another wave of dislike wash over her but she controlled her features.
"No, but I have feeling you are going to introduce me to it." Miranda quipped. Demetri gave a humourless chuckle and pulled out a revolver from under the table. The barrel made a whirling sound after he snapped it out and returned it into its position with a loud click.
"Let's play."
"You know, why should I play when you can just kill me?" Miranda said, folding her arms.
"Let's make a deal then. If I die, then you can have her."
Miranda heard steps approaching them and she turned towards the only entrance. Two men came carrying a sobbing prisoner between them. They dropped him, no, her unceremoniously by their table.
"That's a she-Elf." Miranda said strangely.
"Yes."
"Who is she?"
"Well, someone who played a large role in getting the Queen of Noldorin killed."
"Is that-"
"Fion's wife, yes."
Miranda turned her head to Demetri and for a moment the Man nearly recoiled. Fury blazed in Miranda's eyes, just like it had in her forefather Éomer's eyes long ago.
"You had her."
"Yes."
"All this time, you had her."
"Yes."
"You make me sick."
"Let's make a deal. If I die, you can keep her." Demetri said. "After all, her work is done." The Elleth made no indication she was aware of her surroundings. Miranda swallowed. What exactly had the poor thing gone through? "If you die, then well, she dies too, because there is no use of her left."
"And you don't mind dying?" Miranda said.
"We are pawns in someone's game, Miranda." Demetri said. "That King Thranduil would know by now. So," Demetri pushed the revolver to her. "Let's play."
Miranda looked at the revolver resting on the crude wooden table with some disgust. Before her mind second guessed her, she snatched it up and rested it on her head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She tossed it to Demetri, who caught it cleanly.
"I am surprised you were foolish enough to attack me with such a small team." Demetri said.
Snap. Whirling. Click.
"Why?"
Demetri pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He passed it to Miranda.
"I have the mafia on my side now. The government has no choice but to allow my presence. I am stronger than ever in this position."
Snap. Whirling. Click.
She didn't stop like Demetri did but immediately pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Her heart was racing.
"Numbers do not give all the power." Miranda said. Demetri took the revolver with a smirk. He knew she hated the game. "Where is my team?"
"Safely interrogated in other caves."
"They won't give anything away."
Snap. Whirling. Click. Nothing.
Miranda felt a bit disappointed.
"Oh?"
"They are trained by Celegorm. They won't talk."
"I see." Demetri said. "Tell me why you came here."
She took the revolver, let the barrel spin and brought it back into position with a click. That noise will always haunt her, she thought to herself. She brought it to her head and pulled the trigger. Nothing. She breathed out heavily before an angry thought came to her head.
Béma, if you are out there somewhere, you had better be looking after me because I sure as hell don't want to die in this dump and I need some time to strangle you and the rest of your gang.
"You have some things that interest us."
"Really? Like what?"
"Oh, just things."
Demetri frowned at her before tilting her head to the Man who brought in the Elf. The burly, scarred minion raised his foot and brought it down on the she-Elf's back. She gave a loud, pained shriek and wept anew. Miranda's lips thinned.
Snap. Whirling. Click. Nothing.
"You have new inventions that interest us and we wanted the schematics." She said.
"Ah." Demetri said with a frown. "Your contact keeps you well informed."
"Morgoth isn't the only one with good spies."
Snap. Whirling. Click. Nothing.
Pity there was no way to tell if there was bullet in the barrel when it was her turn. She would love to point it Demetri.
"You have failed miserably in your plan."
Miranda felt like she wanted to curl in a corner and sulk.
"Yes. I suppose so." She said reluctantly.
Then a large blast was heard and Miranda braced herself against the table as the ground shook. Rocks fell from the ceiling.
"I suppose not." Miranda corrected herself mildly.
Before any of them could recover, Miranda pushed back her chair, slamming it into the guard behind her. The Man moved forward. She grabbed his right hand and twisted it sharply, forcing him to drop his weapon. She kicked it out of reach, grabbed his neck and slammed his head against the table. She got up and took her chair and hurled it at the guard over the prisoner. Demetri was already reaching for his gun. There was a sound of a gun going off. Demetri looked at her in shock, his shirt quickly staining in his own blood before crumpling to the ground. Alice stood right behind him.
"You took your sweet time!" Miranda said angrily.
"Well, your position got screwed by their jamming devices." Alice retorted. She reached her in long quick strides. Two of her men followed her. "Just be glad I am here to save your sorry behind!"
"Did you get the data?"
"Oh, I got more than just the data. Get that Elleth to safety!" Alice barked at one of her soldiers. "I don't want to lose her."
"Alice, behind you!"
Alice flipped the gun in her hand, turned and hit Demetri with all her force on his head. The Man's head whipped to the side and he crumpled to the ground without a sound.
"Nice, clean hit," Miranda said in awe when she rolled him over with her foot. He was dead.
"I hate that guy." Alice muttered.
"You and me both."
But still Miranda looked down at Demetri. His eyes were wide and unseeing, blood pooling beneath his head. Was this all that Morgoth offered? A service unpaid?
We are all pawns in someone's game…
The ground shook, and Alice tugged on her arm before breaking off into a run.
"COME ON! This whole place is going under!"
Miranda turned and sprinted after Alice. As she did, she could hear something filling up the caves. It sounded like water. She ran faster and grabbed Alice's outreached hand. As soon as she did, Alice yelled at the Elf to bring her up. Alice's other hand was gripping the rope tightly, her feet resting on a small circular plate attached to the rope with a metallic rod. Miranda kept a tight grip around Alice's waist as they were lifted in a fast, steady rate out of the ground. Miranda looked down and saw the water swell up where they were standing.
"What did you do?" Miranda gasped.
"These caves were originally submerged in water. Demetri's henchmen had stopped the water flow. We just opened up the gates." Alice said.
"And try to kill us in the process."
"Nah, Jimmy told me to bring you up alive."
Miranda looked at her sharply. Alice had an impudent grin on her face.
"Said something about tying the knot," She said.
Miranda's face burned.
"He also said you forgot your engagement ring on the table." Alice was enjoying this too much. "But he was sure that was a mistake. Because he knew you had no second thoughts of marriage."
"He assumes too much." Miranda murmured. "Do not tell anyone."
"Oh, everyone already knows. I told you, you will marry him eventually."
"Shut up."
"I have the right to gloat now that I saved you and your team and got the prisoner out of there."
"Yes, you have served your purpose. Now I can push you of the plate and let you stay here and rot while I go my merry way."
In spite of Miranda's brutal words, she just hung on and did nothing.
The Men helped them off the plate once they reached the carrier, the door remained open and Miranda gratefully wore a thick jacket supplied to her for protection against the biting cold. Then she looked for Fion's wife. Strange, she thought as she hurried to the blanket-covered Elleth. All this time, she never asked Fion what her name was. She knelt down and gingerly touched her hand. The Elleth did not draw away.
"You are safe now," Miranda soothed, gathering the she-Elf in her arms. Her hair was hacked, and she was bald in some places. She was nothing but a bag of bones and skin, and she was cut and wounded, and Miranda could see several bruises beneath the dirt. Shaken, she tightened her arms in an attempt to give some poor comfort. "I am sorry. I am so, so sorry."
"Miranda," Alice said. Miranda looked up. Alice's face was deathly pale. And she looked… afraid.
"What is it?"
"You have to see this yourself."
Miranda gestured at one of the female soldiers to take her place and went to stand beside Alice. Cold air whipped over her cheeks and lips and she peered outside.
She could see as far as the horizon. Snow dotted this side of Russia throughout the year. The land was uneven, and mountains rose up to greet the night time sky. In the light of the stars, Miranda could see men and women filling the land. But there was something strange about them. She saw that they were dressed in clothes not of the modern world. Some were dressed in military clothes that were no longer in use, and others were dressed in old-fashioned garments. All of them were young; there were no elderly, no children. They were raised for one sole purpose.
"The dead walk the earth." Alice whispered.
~S~
Author's Note:
I know a lot of readers usually stay silent, but please... do leave a review. You have no idea how happy it makes me when someone leaves a review.
